Coffee Shop Thoughts
His guitar, her laugh, their voices create music that sounds the way my coffee tastes, like a calm, like a hope. Each note is a drop of motivation, of peace, of musical bliss. I watch them laugh and speak to us, the crowd, setting free their music for us to taste in our coffee. With every note you feel another feeling, be it sadness or happiness or something unidentifiable, whatever it is, you smile, maybe that smile doesn’t reach your eyes because you feel a little bit of everything. Your eyes are sad while your mouth is happy, and your heart, well I guess that's not so easy to read. But along to the music, it beats and no matter what you think you’re feeling you realize you’re feeling everything. So I’ll sit and think in this coffee shop, not actually taking hold of any single thought, not figuring out my life or making any huge decisions. But thinking of little pieces of this moment, like how I would love him sitting here holding my hand and laughing along with the rest of the crowd. Especially as they begin to play our song. But I also think of how I’m completely happy that he’s not, it’s just another thing on the list of things to do with him, but this moment belongs to her, her and her attempts to protect her ears while still hearing the music that I laughed at, I cherish all our little moments like this, they remind me of why I love her. I’m sitting here thinking in this coffee shop, listening to the voices flowing through the air that I use as fuel for the words on this page, this music, and this company gets me this way. If earth holds a heaven, it holds it as not a place but as pieces of time and here is a piece held, soon it will be a piece held in the past, in a memory, in a feeling. I hear the music in everything, not just the music coming from the stage but in the child's voice a table away, or in the crowd's applause or in my best friends laugh, I love little songs like that. There’s just something to love about a coffee shop thought, ever changing but they linger somewhere other than your mind, somewhere else they go and hide for another moment, another time piece where you feel a bit of everything, maybe they will settle just under my skin, like armor. So I’ll listen to the heavenly voices and that damn beautiful guitar, wishing I could play mine the way this man does. I’m trying to hold onto each moment, there’s just something about live music that gets to my silly little heart. There is one thing I realize as I sit here that it is very possible that there is nothing as endless and calming, nothing as otherworldly as coffee shop thoughts.